


Dresses And Skirts

by orphan_account



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 15:52:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex likes to wear dresses. And skirts. And heels. Mark is his best friend. And, like all the good stories about crossdressing boys with best friends, they fall in love. Modern day fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dresses And Skirts

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to FF.net and now being posted here.
> 
> Trigger warnings for homophobia/trans*phobia and violence.

Alex (a more gender-neutral version of his birth name, Alejandro) wasn't "normal" in the conventional sense and he knew it. His friends and family kind of brushed it off as normal at this point, but he knew he was still weird. He got the feeling they considered him to be the Eric Matthews of the family, only without the craziness.

Which, when he thought about it, was fairly accurate. He even had the best friend-slash-roommate that everyone assumed he was with. They weren't really, but Mark was nice about it and when Alex needed the help when he was out, Mark was more than willing to step up as fake-boyfriend. (It wasn't a case of a lack of attraction or common interests; they had both in spades. They just didn't know how to make the jump from sex-and-friendship to actually dating without being terrified they'd ruin it, despite the fact that they slept together on a regular basis and generally acted very much like a couple.)

Anyway, point was that Alex wasn't "normal". "Normal" guys didn't exactly have a second closet in their rooms (or, rather, a closet in the spare room) that was filled with dresses that they wear whenever they feel like.

There was everything from sundresses to party dresses to old-timey type of gowns. He didn't get to wear the gowns out often, so he usually would just wander around the apartment wearing one of them whenever he felt like it and had nothing to do that day. Those days were the only times Mark would actually laugh at him, mainly because Alex, in no way, sat like a girl in a skirt would, and was usually sprawled out on the couch with a plate of nachos and watching a football game or playing Call Of Duty on the Xbox.

He wasn't a girl, and he wasn't interested in becoming one (he'd done the research when he was younger out of curiosity and an attempt to figure himself out). He just liked wearing dresses (and lingerie, and he really liked heels, and he'd admit to having a thing for corsets). And more than occasionally wore skirts, but he preferred dresses. It had been that way since he was a kid.

* * *

Growing up in what was basically the world's most liberal household meant parents who let him basically have free reign in terms of what he wore, and five-year-old him had been grateful for the fact that his mother didn't care about the number of dresses he picked out in comparison to the number of pants and shorts.

He was home-schooled, which seriously helped with avoiding most of the inevitable teasing that came with his preferred wardrobe. There were still people in his neighborhood that picked on him, but he avoided them for the most part.

It was because of the bullies that he met Mark when they were twelve. Mark had helped him out when they were picking on him for wearing one of his sundresses. Mark had chased them off, helped him up, and dusted him off before introducing himself and asking Alex if he was okay. He'd nodded and shook Mark's hand and introduced himself, asking why Mark wanted to be friends with a freak. Mark informed him he wasn't a freak, just different and that the dress looked good on him before asking him if he wanted to get ice cream.

Only once, about a month before his sixteenth birthday, did their mocking actually get to him. They'd managed to get his favorite dress from the dry-cleaners, cut it up, and burned most it in a metal trash can, leaving the trashcan full of ashes and the few pieces they hadn't burned on his front porch for him to find the next morning.

Alex had, surprisingly calmly, turned around, walked inside the house, and back up to his room, at which point he broke down and cried. (He wasn't ashamed to admit it, because that dress meant a lot to him. His grandmother had bought it for him before she'd died of a stroke a few months previous.) The incident resulted in him packing up everything not "normal" in a box and shoving it in the back of his closet, sticking to boys' clothes and staying inside the house to avoid the neighborhood kids.

Mark came over every day after school, as he always did, but unlike Alex's parents, never tried to make him talk about his change in wardrobe. Instead, Mark did as he always did, and dumped his bookbag on Alex's bedroom floor, flopped face-down on the bed, and begged his best friend to do his Spanish homework for him.

"You're the one who wanted to take Spanish, remember?" Alex reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's just hard, alright?" Mark whined. Alex laughed and shook his head.

"Is not. You're just lazy." Alex helped him a bit, though, and Mark continued to not ask about what was going on with his best friend.

The night before his birthday, his parents sat him down in the living room to talk.

"Honey, we noticed your wardrobe's a little... off," his mother had said, worry evident in her face and tone.

"What are you talking about, Mom? My clothing is perfectly normal now!" Alex said, attempting to avoid any further conversation. "Angelo and Marcus even leave me alone now," he said, referring to the two teenage boys who had ruined his dress. His parents exchanged worried looks.

"Maybe it's normal to them, but it's not normal for you," his father pointed out. Alex shrugged.

"Maybe this is the new normal, now. Maybe I finally got through the phase. Or grew up and stopped playing dress up," he said bitterly. His parents' worried looks became those of alarm.

"Alejandro," his mother said gently, trying to get him to calm down, but he shrugged.

"I have to 'grow up' sometime, don't I?"

"I guess this means we shouldn't tell you we replaced the dress? And had it altered so it fit you?" his father asked, and Alex's eyes widened. His mother handed him a gift bag and he opened it to find a dress almost identical to the one that had been ruined, only this one had already been altered to fit him better.

"We thought you might like to wear it tomorrow," his mother said, smiling at him. "Is that okay?" she asked, and he nodded, pulling the dress out of the bag and staring at it. "Hey, are you okay?" He nodded in response to the question.

"I'm sorry. I just. Nana bought me that dress and it was kind of the final straw," Alex said, shrugging. "Thanks, Mom, Dad. This means a lot." And with that, he left the room, holding the dress carefully.

After that, he'd gone up to his room and pulled the box out of the closet, carefully taking the clothes out and shaking them out before hanging them back up and heading to bed, the dress his parents gave him hanging on the back of his door for the following day.

The birthday party, which took place in the local park, wasn't huge, but it had been fun, and Alex got to wear his dress for it, grinning when Mark tugged him onto the makeshift dance floor a few times and subjected him to whatever top 40 song was playing at the moment. There were a couple of times where he and Mark danced to slow songs, smiling at each other and generally acting like the couple everyone thought they were, even then. (They weren't, which was something they'd repeated to their parents a million times, but nobody ever believed them.)

* * *

Mark took him to prom, since Mark went to public school and Alex didn't. When Mark went to pick him up, he answered the door wearing a suit and looking uncomfortable while mumbling about how he wanted it to go as smoothly as possible for Mark. The blond stared at him for a moment before telling him to go get dressed.

"I am dressed," Alex said, shrugging. Mark rolled his eyes.

"No, you're not. You know how some idiots say you're just playing dress up when you wear what you want? That's bullshit. But what you're doing now? _That_ is dress up," he said. "Now please, go get ready and put on that gorgeous red 50s dress you have hanging in your closet. I know you've been looking for an occasion to wear it." Alex stared at him, dumbfounded. Mark repeated the request that he actually get dressed so they could go. "I accounted for extra time because I knew you'd do something like this. However, that doesn't mean you can take an hour to get ready."

After another minute of staring at him, Alex smiled and darted upstairs, coming back down twenty minutes later wearing the dress Mark had mentioned and smiling nervously.

"Now, that's better. Now you look like yourself," the blond said, getting up from the couch and picking up the corsage he'd brought with him, slipping it onto Alex's wrist and smiling.

"How did you know?" he asked quietly, biting his lip and smiling as Mark adjusted the corsage and fixed the red tulips so they looked a little less squashed.

"Because it's you. You'd forgo your own comfort for mine. Now, come on, we're going to be late," Mark said, taking Alex's hand and bidding his mother and father good-bye. Mark, ever the gentleman, even on a date with a friend, opened the car door for him, which made Alex blush and whack him on the arm.

"I am not a girl, damn it."

"No, but you are my date, and I was taught to be a gentleman, even if my date was one, too," Mark said, shrugging as he climbed in the other side.

They went to dinner (Pizza Hut, because Alex wanted it and Mark was incapable of denying Alex anything) and then got to the school for prom. Mark's school was too cheap to host it anywhere else, so the gym ended up being temporarily redecorated for it. Before they got out of the car, Mark turned and gave him a hug.

"You okay, Alejandro?" he asked, and the boy in question nodded.

"Hey, call me Alex. Alejandro's kind of a mouthful," he said, shrugging.

"Five years I know you before you finally let me call you by a nickname," Mark said, rolling his eyes and dodging when Alex reached out to smack him.

"Because the number of times you called me Bumlets prior to this didn't count."

"I specified _let_. You hated being called Bumlets. Although, considering the outfit that led up to that nickname, I can't say I blame you," the blond said, referring to the one and only time Alex's clothing choices were truly questionable. "You looked like a hooker! What else was I supposed to do?" he asked, dodging Alex's attempts at smacking him.

"Not call me names? Come on, let's go," the other said, rolling his eyes at Mark and getting out of the car, sandals clicking on the asphalt as he righted himself. Mark took his hand as they walked in and immediately pulled him out onto the floor to dance.

"You know, it's almost a shame you don't go here," the blond said. "Cause then I'd be able to vote for prom royalty that I actually _like._ "

"If that's a drag queen joke, Mark, I swear to god, I'll—" Alex didn't get to finish, cut off by Mark kissing him. "...why did you do that?" he asked, eyes wide, staring at his best friend.

"I don't know—I just. You look. Great. And I just thought. Sorry," he said, eyes on his feet. "Won't do it again."

"Oh, I don't care if you do it again. I just would like some warning," Alex said, and then kissed Mark to prove his point. The blond flailed a bit, but eventually calmed down and kissed him back. "Now, continuing with my earlier train of thought. If you make a drag queen joke, I will _end you,_ Markus," he threatened once they separated.

"Does this mean I can't call you queen of my heart?" Mark asked, flinching when Alex punched him hard in the arm. "I deserved that."

"Yes, you fucking did," Alex told him, punching him again.

"So, can I get a dance? Or will you punch me again?" Mark asked, smiling hopefully, and Alex nodded, taking his hand and letting Mark drag him out onto the dance floor. They danced for a few songs before grabbing drinks and sitting at one of the tables. They sat there for a while, talking about the newest episode of Gossip Girl (Mark watched because he had a thing for Leighton Meester, Alex watched for the fashion) and Doctor Who.

They got up a couple more times to dance, including several slow songs, and during one of them, Mark kissed him again. He didn't panic after pulling away, but he did blush and stammer an apology.

"You just look really really... I don't want to say 'pretty', but, I mean..." he trailed off awkwardly. Alex smiled, leaned up on his toes, and kissed him.

"I like pretty," the brunet said, pulling away. The blond stared at him.

"You don't mind?"

"I just said I liked it, Mark," Alex said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh. Then. You're very pretty, Alex," Mark said hesitantly, trying out the nickname for the first time, and hoping Alex wouldn't hit him for the attempted compliment. The shorter boy grinned and kissed him again.

Later, after the king and queen were crowned (not that Mark or Alex actually cared) and things were winding down, Mark pulled him aside.

"Listen, I know you've been kind of stressed, getting your G.E.D. and everything, so I kind of snagged us a hotel room for a couple of nights for a vacation for you. Two beds, before you even think that way," the blond said, rolling his eyes at the smirk on his friend's face. "I had your mom pack a few things for you. Both boy clothes and some of your favorite dresses. So you have a choice in what to wear." Alex stared at Mark, who was turning steadily redder the longer Alex didn't say anything. "So, um, what do you say? You, me, a bit of a vacation downtown? Near the Strip District, because I know you're a sucker for DeLuca's, although we'd have to get up at the crack of dawn to get in line for breakfast."

"Alright, you've convinced me," Alex said, grinning. Mark smiled and Alex couldn't help but kiss him. "What do you say we blow this place and get some take-out on the way to the hotel?" Mark shook his head.

"Nope. Got a plan. And that involves us staying until the end," the blond said, smiling. "You'll find out soon enough," he said when Alex pouted. "Sit and relax." The brunet did as instructed, rolling his eyes when Mark flopped down into the chair next to him. Alex looked at him and raised his eyebrows.

"We have an hour to kill. What the hell are we going to do?" he asked, which probably explained why, twenty minutes later, he and Mark were making out with him pinned against the door to one of the janitor's closets. Mark was holding Alex up, with the shorter boy's legs wrapped around his waist to help keep himself from falling, and his arms around Mark's neck, though that was more of just a place to put them, rather than being there for any support. They stayed that way for several minutes, kisses getting progressively more heated, until Alex finally pulled away.

"Something wrong, Alex?" Mark asked while trailing kisses down Alex's neck before latching onto his collarbone. Alex closed his eyes and groaned before he remembered to reply.

"I don't have a spare pair of underwear, plus I am really attached to this dress, so you should really, _really_ stop that," he said, grabbing Mark's hair to pull him away. The blond pouted over having his fun taken away until he saw the look on Alex's face that said he really should stop unless he wanted to ruin Alex's clothes.

"Alright. I'll stop," Mark said, acquiescing and setting him down before stepping away. He blinked when Alex pulled a compact from seemingly out of nowhere. "Where did you get that?" he asked as the shorter boy used it to examine how bad the damage was to his neck.

"I sewed a pocked into this dress. I have a compact and fold-up brush, in case my hair gets trashed. Some cash, just in case. And my house keys. Also, that is going to bruise, damn it," Alex said, glaring at the blond. "And my hair is a wreck," he muttered, pulling the aforementioned brush out of his pocket and trying to fix his hair.

"I thought you said you weren't a girl," Mark commented and dodged the anticipated punch.

"I'm not. I just don't want to walk back out there looking like I gave you a blowjob in the janitor's closet. I may have the swollen mouth for it, but that doesn't mean I have to have the hair," the brunet replied, finishing up his hair. "Better." Mark stared at him.

"When did you get so... crude?" he asked, more than a little shocked at Alex's choice of words.

"Probably about the time you almost shoved your hand up my skirt." Mark continued staring, and the brunet grinned. "Something wrong, Mark?"

"No, nothing's wrong."

"Uh-huh. Well, we still have half an hour to kill. What do you want to do?" Alex asked, smirking at the look on Mark's face.

"What do I want to do?" The blond asked incredulously. "Are you really asking me that right now?"

"Yes," Alex said, grinning.

"Okay. Back out to the gym," Mark said, pulling the brunet along. "Because if we stay here too long, I will _definitely_ ruin your underwear. And probably your dress, too. And I really don't want to piss you off by doing that." Alex let out a laugh at that and followed the blond back into the gym, though he did pull him aside a few times for a few kisses. "I thought you said we should stop," Mark muttered after the third time it happened. Alex shrugged.

"Yeah, but I like kissing you. It doesn't _have_ to lead anywhere."

"You're going to kill me," the blond groaned. "Stop it and let me drag you out to the gym. It's almost time."

"Time for what?" Alex asked, slightly confused. Mark grinned.

"Well, I suppose I can tell you now. I, uh, called in a favor with the DJ. He may or may not be playing your favorite romantic song from a musical for you to dance to," he explained, shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "That's okay, right?"

"On one condition," the brunet stipulated.

"What?"

"You dance with me," he said. Mark nodded, smiling.

"I was hoping that was your condition," he admitted. "Um, just to be sure, your favorite romantic song is still 'Do I Love You' from Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella, right?" Alex nodded. "Okay, good. Um, ready to go in, then? Once everyone else has left, Lou will start the song for us."

They got into the gym just as the last people were leaving. Mark and Alex managed to make their way through the group of people and hung out around the DJ's stand until everybody finally filed out. A few minutes after the final couple left, Lou, the DJ, nodded at Mark and turned on the song.

Mark blushed and held out his hand. "Can I have this dance?" Alex nodded and took the offered hand, and Mark pulled him out to dance. They danced, as close to the movie's dancing as they could get, for a couple of minutes before Alex noticed Mark was singing. " _Are you the sweet invention of a lover's dream? Or are you really as wonderful as you seem?_ " That was the end of the song, but Alex gave Lou a pleading look and he repeated it. Again, Mark sang along with Christopher's part, substituting 'girl' for 'boy'. Alex smiled and rested his head on Mark's shoulder.

Mark wasn't the greatest singer, but he stayed on-key and was pretty pleasant to listen to. Alex almost wished Mark liked performing more, if only because he wanted an excuse to listen to Mark sing romantic show-tunes more often.

The song ended and didn't repeat this time, but they continued dancing, although it was less dancing and more slowly turning on the spot.

"So, um," Mark said after a few minutes. "Hotel now? Your bag's in the car, so we don't have to stop or anything. You're probably pretty tired." Alex nodded from his spot on Mark's shoulder. "Don't want to move?" The brunet shook his head and Mark smiled. "How about we dance our way out to the car, then? That way, you can still be Cinderella and I still get to be your Christopher." Alex smiled and nodded and Mark led them out to the car that way.

He held the door open for Alex, who smiled and shook his head. "Not a girl," he reminded the blond.

"Still my date," he replied and shut the door before climbing in the other side and heading to the hotel.

* * *

When they got there, they just stripped off their nice clothes, threw on pajamas, and curled up together on one of the beds together without thinking. Mark wasn't ashamed to admit that it was one of the best nights of sleep he'd ever gotten, despite how lame it sounded.

When he woke up in the middle of the night, he didn't even think before wrapping an arm around Alex and pulling him closer before going back to sleep.

When they first woke the next morning (at six AM, which Mark griped about for the entire day, despite getting extra sleep), Alex was bordering on a full-blown freak-out, but Mark, still half-asleep, blinked at him and mumbled, "Jesus, Alex, it's too early, come back to bed." And Alex acquiesced, lying back down and curling up next to his best friend. Mark threw an arm around him and pulled him closer, curling himself around the brunet and going back to sleep.

When they woke again a few hours later, Mark sat up, put his glasses on, and looked at Alex.

"So, are you going to freak this time?"

"Maybe?" He said, shrugging. "I just—Mark, we slept together." The blond shrugged.

"So? It's not like we had sex. The only thing we had was the best night of sleep we've had in our lives. Well, I did, anyway. Don't know about you."

Alex blinked at him a few times, stunned, before replying. "I—yeah. Same for me, honestly."

"Good, now can you please chill out? I'm hungry and we missed breakfast. Kabobs?" Mark asked and Alex nodded. They got dressed, Alex in a blue dress that Mark bought him for Christmas, and got an early lunch from the kabob stand in the Strip District. They both had the kabobs and split a Styrofoam container of lo mein. "Fortunes, next? I know how you are when you don't get your coffee," Mark said, smiling.

"Please," Alex replied, nodding furiously.

"Let's go, then." Mark dumped their garbage in a nearby can and after a quick glance to make sure traffic was its usual Sunday morning jam, pulled Alex across the street and into the coffee shop.

They got back a couple hours later after wandering the strip district, carrying fudge from the Macaroni Company and a couple new books from Bradley's.

Alex flopped, face up, on the bed and whined. "My feet hurt. My legs hurt."

"You shouldn't wear sandals for glamour then, Alex. Especially to the Strip," Mark said, smiling and sitting down next to him. He leaned over and kissed the brunet lightly. When Alex froze, Mark's eyes widened and he hastened to stammer out an apology. "I-I-I-I'm s-s-so s-s-s-sorry. I-I-I-I sh-should've th-thought. Th-that was p-p-probably o-o-only l-last night a-and I-I'm s-sorry."

"Mark, shut up," Alex said and pulled him back down for another kiss. Mark, after initially startling at being yanked back down, started to kiss back and smiled when they eventually pulled away.

"Okay, then?" he asked. "Just making sure, I mean."

Alex rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yes, Mark. Definitely okay. And it will continue to be okay." He smiled and kissed Mark lightly on the cheek. "Now, come on, a nap. I'm tired," he whined, pouting a little. "Nap with me? I sleep better when you're there." Mark smiled and nodded.

"Okay, I'll nap with you," he said, laying down and curling up next to his best friend. Alex's only response was to cuddle into Mark and fall asleep almost immediately, making the blond chuckle a little before drifting off to sleep himself.

* * *

They never really classified what they were.

Sometime during their little vacation, the kissing had turned into making out and eventually sex, because they both wanted their first time to be with each other, rather than someone else.

(And yes, Alex was well aware of how cheesy that sounded.)

(No, he didn't care.)

They didn't call each other boyfriend, but Alex stopped flirting with the guys who hit on him and Mark stopped glaring whenever they looked at Alex twice. It wasn't really a relationship, but neither of them actually wanted one at the time.

* * *

Graduation was interesting, for lack of a better word. The local high school offered to let Alex walk in the ceremony since he'd gotten his G.E.D. there in time for it. Mark bought him the cap and gown, presenting them to him with a flourish and grinning wide enough to match Alex's smile.

They went, and they went through the whole graduation ceremony and everything, and Alex, like always, wore one of his dresses, and Mark wore a matching tie and they took pictures with their families before heading into the school to clean out Mark's locker. There, they ran into Marcus and Angelo, Alex's childhood bullies.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the queer and his girlfriend—oh, wait, that's not a girl!" For reasons Alex was incapable of fathoming, the other two found that incredibly funny and started laughing uproariously. "Hey, aren't you that kid we used to pick on?" Angelo asked, grinning at Alex.

"Yup, he totally is," Marcus said with a grin. "Still want to grow up to be a girl, Alexandra?" Alex flinched a little and stepped closer to Mark, who took his hand immediately, squeezing a little in an attempt to comfort him. "Oh, the queer's dating the tranny now. How nice," Marcus said with a sneer. "Tell me, are you still technically a fag if Alexandra here becomes a girl?"

"Um, Mark, can we get out of here? Please?" Alex whispered quietly, tugging on the blond's hand. Mark nodded and they started walking backwards slowly, away from the other two, still standing there and making rude comments, making Alex flinch every time they called him Alexandra or that horrible T-word.

"Hey, you two, where are you going?" Angelo called, grinning again. "We still have to celebrate the both of you graduating! Come on, we have lots of fun planned!" With that, the two started walking towards Mark and Alex, who both turned and ran as fast as they could. Alex forgot he was in heels, and slipped a few feet from the door, landing hard on the linoleum floor.

"Alex!" Mark stopped and started back towards him. The brunet shook his head and gestured for him to go.

"No, okay? You go. I've dealt with them before. I can handle what they'd do." The blond shook his head and helped him up, but not soon enough. They were grabbed by Marcus and Angelo before they could make it out the door, and were dragged off to a remote corner of the school and beaten severely.

Half an hour later, after kicking the crap out of Mark and Alex, Marcus and Angelo apparently got bored of it and left, leaving Mark and Alex curled up on the floor, bruised and bleeding. Alex was curled up as small as he could make himself and whimpering a little. Mark struggled to get up, eventually succeeding, and tried to help Alex, who flinched away from him.

"Alex, it's me, okay? It's Mark," he said, carefully running his fingers through the brunet's hair, a trick he'd learned ages ago to calm Alex down. Alex slowly relaxed and let Mark see how bad the damage was. From what Mark could tell, it was hospital-worthy and he dug for his cell phone to call, only to be interrupted by Alex's parents finding them. Several minutes later, the hospital was called and Alex and Mark were both in the back of an ambulance and on their way to the hospital.

Once they'd been checked out by a doctor and gotten x-rays and everything, Mark and Alex were left in a room together to sleep for a while, as miraculously neither had a concussion. Mark couldn't sleep, too worried about Alex, who was tossing and turning and whimpering in his sleep. Mark, ignoring the annoyed nurse who was told to watch their room in case of sudden changes in condition, disconnected himself from everything and climbed into Alex's narrow bed, curling around him and holding him as close as he could. Alex almost immediately calmed down and cuddled into Mark, still asleep.

The blond eventually fell asleep, still holding onto him.

* * *

"Three cracked ribs, a hairline fracture in your collarbone, and bruising all over. Wow. Oh, and they cracked a vertebrae," Mark said. They'd been discharged after a couple of days in the hospital with strict instructions to stay in bed and leave all of the braces and, in Mark's case, the cast on, and keep physical exertion to a minimum. Alex snorted.

"Like you're any better. Two cracked ribs, several bruised ones, and a fractured femur. And you still got up and worried more about me than you. Nice one, Mark," he said, rolling his eyes. "Thanks for sleeping with me, by the way. It kinda helps the nightmares." He smiled a little and cuddled into Mark more. The blond smiled back and kissed the top of the brunet's head.

"Yeah, well, it's not like it's a hardship to sleep next to you," he said, smiling, and kissed the top of Alex's head again.

"Well, still, thank you," he said, smiling at Mark. The blond smiled back and hugged him as tightly as he could without hurting Alex.

"You're welcome. Now come on, we should get some sleep," Mark said, pulling the covers up over them both and curling around Alex again. "Good night, Alex."

"Good night, Mark," the brunet replied and kissed Mark's cheek before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

He and Mark had both decided to go to Pitt, and after pleading with their parents, who had connections in the housing department and got them a room together. Official rules said not to sleep together, but they ignored them, because they figured it was better they sleep together than Alex wake the entire dorm with screaming because of his nightmares. The beds were not exactly conducive to that, but they made it work. And, by some kind of dumb luck, they had a class together as well. It was math, but Mark was good enough at it to help Alex, who was kind of abysmal.

"No, okay, seriously, this is _basic algebra_ , how do you not get this?" Mark asked, staring at his roommate. Alex shrugged. "Seriously, can I get more than a shrug? I mean, come on. They taught us PEMDAS in middle school." The brunet stared at him blankly.

"What the hell is PEMDAS?" he asked. Mark just stared at him.

"How the hell did you pass the G.E.D.?" Alex shrugged.

"Dumb luck?"

"Clearly," Mark muttered.

With Mark's help, Alex managed to pass his algebra class, albeit by the skin of his teeth. The rest of their first year passed with little incident, aside from when Alex decided to get piercings.

"What are those?" Mark asked, staring at Alex's collarbone, where there were four little metal balls under it, two on each side of his chest. The brunet rolled his eyes.

"Piercings, duh. Those aren't the only once I got, either," he said, and stuck his tongue out so Mark could see the stud. The blond dropped his backpack and stared. "Something wrong?" Alex asked innocently.

"Alex. I have another class in an hour and I hate you," Mark said, still staring. Alex smirked.

"An hour is plenty of time." Mark got the hint and kicked the door shut behind him, locking it before going over and pulling Alex down onto the bed.

* * *

Their second year of college, they got an apartment together off-campus. It was a tiny two-bedroom place just above the Starbucks across from the art museum. One bedroom was theirs to sleep in and the other Alex used to store his clothes.

And one day that Alex would remember for a _very_ long time was the day he first tried a corset. Mainly because it was the first time Mark really cared about what he wore. Well, he did care usually, in that he just wanted Alex to be comfortable, but it was the first time Mark really _cared_ and had a reaction. Normally, whether Alex was wearing a skirt and clean-shaven, as he preferred, or whether he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and scruffy due to not shaving for a few days, Mark didn't much care, as long as Alex was comfortable.

He and Mark had recently moved into their apartment and were basically unpacked when Alex brought it home. He pulled it out of the bag and started trying to do it up in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the spare room closet door. He eventually managed to get it on and laced up and closed. When he looked in the mirror, he took a minute to gape at himself before calling for Mark.

"What is it, Alex—whoa," Mark said, staring at his roommate, who was blushing and fiddling with the hem of the skirt he was wearing.

"How do I look in it?" Alex asked nervously. Mark just nodded wordlessly, still staring. "Mark, what is it?" The blond dropped the book in his hand and walked over to the brunet who was facing the mirror again and plastering himself against his back, curling his hands around his roommate's hips.

"You look—fucking gorgeous in that. I—it's really hard to explain but this is just—I can't—it's just really really _nice_ to look at," Mark said, dropping a kiss to Alex's shoulder and looking at him in the mirror. "And when I say nice, I mean _nice_ ," he mumbled, trailing kisses up Alex's shoulder to his ear in between words.

"You have a thing for it, don't you?" Alex asked, smirking at Mark in the mirror and shaking his head a little. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Don't care. You're hot in that corset," Mark muttered, nipping at the brunet's neck and grinning. "Bed, now."

* * *

Alex did try to date someone, once. Someone who wasn't Mark. He figured he and Mark had never had any kind of talk and Mark never called him his boyfriend, so he was free to date whomever he'd like.

Chris was a guy in one of his classes that flirted with him every single time they saw each other, as well as one of Alex's friends. So, Alex started flirting back and Chris eventually asked him out, Alex agreeing to let Chris pick him up.

"Where are you going?" Mark asked, leaning against the door to the spare room and watching Alex get dressed.

"Out. I got asked out by Chris," the brunet replied, tugging on his stockings and glancing at Mark. "What? Something wrong?"

"Just a little surprised. I didn't think you wanted to go out with other people," Mark murmured, coming over and zipping up the back of Alex's dress. "You look good."

"Haven't even done my hair and makeup yet," Alex said, smiling and heading into the bathroom, brushing his hair and tugging it into a nice ponytail quickly. "And I figured 'why not?' Chris is a nice guy and thinks I'm attractive."

"I guess," Mark muttered, following Alex and helping him with his makeup. "Is he picking you up?"

"Yeah. And thanks. I can't do eyeliner to save my life," he murmured and the blond smiled, nodding.

"I know you can't. That's why I'm helping, dork," Mark murmured, finishing with Alex's eyeliner and doing the rest quickly. "I'll probably be awake when you get home, so you'll have to tell me how the date went."

"Alright," Alex murmured, hugging Mark, who kissed the top of his head, and kissing him quickly without thinking. "Oh, sorry. I didn't think..."

"It's alright, Alex. We've been doing it for years now. Habit, y'know?"

"Yeah, habit," Alex said, nodding and hugging Mark again. "Thanks for helping me get dressed, Mark."

"You're welcome," Mark murmured, smiling and hugging Alex tightly. "Have fun on your date, yeah? Oh, I think that's Chris now."

Alex nodded and pulled away, going to answer the door and smiling at Chris when he opened it. Chris handed over a bouquet of flowers and Alex took them, smiling and going to put them in water.

"Thank you, Chris. So, where are we going?" Alex asked, biting his lip when he saw the annoyed expression on Chris' face. "Oh, is it the dress? Because I can change."

"Would you?" Chris asked, smiling at Alex, who nodded and hurried back to the spare room. He wiped off his makeup, ignoring Mark when he heard him come in, and started changing into something more appropriate.

"You don't have to change," Mark said, coming over and hugging the brunet. He kissed the top of Alex's head and hugged him tighter. "You shouldn't have to change and wear something uncomfortable just because he takes issue with your dresses."

"I guess. But I like this guy," Alex mumbled, shrugging and hugging Mark back.

"He's not worth it if he can't take you as you are," the blond said. He ignored the noise from the doorway, continuing to hold onto Alex and humming quietly.

"I'm going to go. I think this was a bad idea," Chris said, staying just long enough for Alex to acknowledge him before leaving and slamming their front door shut.

"Come on, we'll go out, yeah? Haven't been to the O in forever anyway," Mark murmured, kissing the top of Alex's head. The brunet smiled and nodded, hugging Mark one more time before pulling away.

"I wiped off my makeup, though. Damn."

"I'll help you reapply it, since I know you prefer to wear it when you can," Mark said, taking Alex's hand and leading him into the bathroom so the blond could start on his makeup.

"Thanks, Mark," Alex murmured, trying not to move while Mark did his eyeliner.

"You're welcome, Alex."

* * *

Alex did try dating another guy, one who didn't have such a problem with Alex's crossdressing. While it went better than it did with Chris, Alex didn't end up going out with him again, citing that it just didn't feel right. Which was the truth, really. It didn't feel right.

So, instead, he and Mark would go out, they'd have dinner at the little noodle shop down the street from their apartment, having lunch between their classes and around work. Alex managed to get a job in a clothing store while Mark worked next door in the music shop.

(As much as he hated actually working there, he considered the discount well worth it. As did Mark, although Mark liked that Alex worked the closing shift and didn't mind sex in the dressing rooms before they left more.)

* * *

"So, a bunch of people in my history class is having a masquerade ball on Saturday. They informed me that I am required to invite you because, and I quote, 'your roommate has all the prettiest dresses. Ask her if she wants to come.' So, do you want to?" Mark asked, setting a cup of coffee down in front of the seat Alex usually took.

"Sure. What's the dress code?" the brunet called from the bathroom. "Wait, _her_?"

"The mask has to match the outfit and you can't go naked. And yes, her," the blond called back, quieting when his roommate stepped out of the bathroom in his dress of the day, which was navy with short sleeves and a belt and a skirt that Mark thought vaguely resembled an upside-down wine glass, with his hair tugged up into a quick ponytail to keep it out of his face. "Apparently, you're pretty enough that people think you're a girl. Maybe you can wear that green and black dress with the beads and the matching choker you bought a couple weeks ago," he suggested.

"You mean the one I have to lace myself into a corset to fit?" Alex asked as he sat and took a sip of the coffee Mark had put down. The blond shrugged, as if he hadn't been there when Alex first put it on and hadn't laced up the corset for him. "I guess I'll take it as a compliment. Still. I'm not a girl. And you just want to see me in that corset again," he said teasingly. The fact that Mark had a thing for Alex in a corset was something that the brunet liked to tease him for. Usually by wearing dresses with lace-up bodices like the corsets Alex was most partial to, although those times ended with them dropping what they were doing in favor of spending time in bed.

"Maybe," the blond said, shrugging again. "But you and I both know that dress looks amazing on you and you should totally wear it."

"Alright. But I'm making you help me into it," Alex said, smirking, and Mark groaned.

"I hate you," he said and groaned again.

"No, you don't." Alex smirked again. "Come on, then. We'll need to make sure it fits properly."

"Hate. You," Mark repeated, following his roommate into the spare room. "You do this to torment me."

"Maybe," Alex said, shrugging and pulling the dress out of his closet. "Grab the plain black one for me?" he asked, taking off his dress and pulling his hair up into a higher ponytail so it wouldn't get caught anywhere. Mark turned away from the dresser, corset in hand, and stared at the mostly-naked brunet in front of him. "Mark, please stop staring and hand it to me," Alex said, rolling his eyes and taking the corset from Mark's hand, the blond still staring.

He loosened the strings in the back and hooked it in the front before turning back to the still-staring blond.

"Well? You going to help me or not?" The brunet asked, snapping his fingers in Mark's face a few times to get his attention.

"Uh. Um. Y-yeah," the blond stuttered out, shaking himself to snap out of it. Alex smirked. "Oh, shut up."

"I said nothing. Now will you _please_ help?" he asked, turning so Mark could reach the laces. The blond acquiesced and started systematically tightening the laces, from the top to down to wear the ends tied together.

"This okay? Or too tight?" he asked, holding the laces so Alex could shift around and test them.

"A little loose, actually," the brunet said, and Mark went through and tightened the laces until Alex told him it was right, then tied them. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around the shorter man, kissing him on the shoulder. "Hey, none of that. I actually want to make sure this dress fits this morning." Mark pouted.

"But. So much skin. And those marks are starting to fade," he said, nosing at the faint bruises on his roommate's neck and shoulders.

"Stop it, at least for now. Once I'm done making sure that the dress will fit and take it back off, then you can have your fun," Alex said, pulling away. Mark whined, making the brunet chuckle and roll his eyes. "You're such a dork, Mark."

"Yeah, but I'm your—" The sentence ended abruptly, and Mark looked away. He shouldn't have said that. He shouldn't have thought it. Their arrangement worked because neither of them wanted to actually admit to being in a relationship. They fucked, they were best friends, and they slept in the same bed because Alex had nightmares about graduation when he slept without him. That was it. They didn't have actual dates, they didn't call each other boyfriends or whatever.

So what if they didn't go out with other people because it felt wrong? So what if Mark honestly hadn't so much as looked at anyone else since he fell for—noticed Alex? So what if he still bought him flowers every Valentine's Day and called him things like "darling" and "dear" in Dutch when he thought the other wouldn't notice? It didn't mean he could say things like "yeah, but I'm your dork" without it being a total joke.

"It's okay, Mark. I got what you meant," Alex said, smiling, albeit sadly. One day, Mark was going to give in and fess up. Today wasn't the day for it.

"Yeah, well. You, uh, wanted to try the dress, right?" Mark asked, hoping that Alex would accept the subject change. The brunet nodded and pulled the dress off the hanger. He pulled it on carefully, mindful of the fact that while it wasn't as old as the style would suggest, it had been in the vintage shop for a reason.

"Do up the laces?" he asked, and Mark nodded, stepping close and doing up the laces.

"There," the blond said, stepping away quickly. He didn't want to slip up again because he was distracted and say something stupid. "You look great." It was an understatement, but Mark had to shut himself up. He was already metaphorically fucked with Alex. He didn't need to make it worse.

* * *

"Alex, you home?" Mark called the next day, kicking the door shut and setting the grocery bags down on the counter. There was an answering shout from the spare room (and Alex's second closet, though if Mark called it that, he'd get a punch in the arm) and Mark smiled and began putting the groceries away. Once they were all put away, he put a sandwich together for Alex and walked down the hall, knocking on the door.

"Come in! Although, why you insist on knocking, I will _never_ know," Alex said, and Mark rolled his eyes as he opened the door and entered.

"Dude, for all I know, you might be in the middle of changing," he said, setting the plate with the sandwich on it on Alex's desk. "Someone went shopping today," Mark commented, flopping on his roommate's bed and nodding at the bags stacked on one of his chairs. The blond shoved his hair out of his eyes and smiled at his roommate. "I thought you had a dress for the ball."

"Like we really care about that. How many times have we seen each other naked?" Alex asked, rolling his eyes. "Plus, we do sleep together. On a regular basis. And yes, I did go shopping. Sale at the vintage store and you know I'm a sucker for vintage. And yes, I do have a dress. Still, there was a sale. Thanks for the sandwich, by the way. How'd you know?"

"Because this is you and you would forget to put on clothes in the morning if I didn't remind you."

"What if I just do that because I wanted to walk around naked?" Alex asked, raising his eyebrows and grinning. Mark laughed and shook his head.

"That wouldn't surprise me, honestly."

"Of course it wouldn't. This is _me_ ," Alex said. After a minute, his grin faded. "Why did you never tell me you could draw?" Mark froze, the pillow he was in the middle of moving falling out of his hands.

"Wha—" He cleared his throat before trying to talk again. "What makes you say that?"

"This," Alex said, pulling a sketch pad out from under the pile of clothes on the desk. It was already opened to a drawing of Alex, curled up on the couch asleep under a blanket, hair half out of its ponytail, and the shoulder strap of the dress falling off. Mark stared.

"Where did you find that?"

"Under the couch. I dropped the remote and found that under there," his roommate said. "So, you want to explain to me what you're doing studying history when you can draw like _that_? You should be at the Art Institute, Mark! Not Pitt! Why are you here and not there?" Alex asked, frustrated.

"Because downtown is too far away from you, okay?" Mark said, sighing in annoyance. "I don't like being that far away from you, Alex."

"Far away from me? Jesus, Mark!" the brunet shouted. "Did it ever occur to you that _maybe_ we're a little too codependent? I can't even sleep without you next to me, for god's sake!"

"You have nightmares," Mark pointed out.

"Even aside from the nightmares, I don't sleep well without you next to me. I haven't since freshman year of college. Hell, since that summer! I think the last time we willingly slept apart was the night before prom!"

"So what?" Mark asked, shrugging.

"Mark, we are too fucking codependent. And this—whatever—that we have going on isn't helping," Alex said, and tried to relax, smoothing his skirt and adjusting the watch on his wrist. "Maybe we should take a break."

"Come again?"

"A break, Mark. See if we can't figure things out," the brunet said, shrugging.

"No. I have my shit figured out. I just don't like leaving you. To nightmares and bad sleep and not being there to get you your first cup of coffee."

"Maybe I don't. Maybe I'm tired of being confused and need to sort my own shit out, Mark! Can you let me do that?" Alex asked, sighing.

"What's there to be confused about?"

"Maybe the fact that we've been _fucking—_ " Mark flinched at the word "—since prom and we have yet to even have a discussion about how the hell we handle this?"

"We're handling it fine!" Alex sighed in frustration at his roommate.

"No, we're not. You do realize how much of a boyfriend you act like in public, right? And then we get home and it's fucking confusing cause you don't stop, despite the fact that we're not in a fucking relationship! And when I try to talk about it, you just say you're being friendly."

"Oh," Mark said.

"Oh?"

"I. If you'd said something, I'd have—"

"Stopped? Just like you stopped the three million times I've tried to talk to you about it before?" Alex sighed. "Look. Can we take a break from each other for a while? I need to figure this out."

"What is there to figure out? I'm in love with you, Alex!"

Several seconds' ringing silence followed those words. They stared at each other, Alex dumbfounded at his roommate's admittance, Mark in shock that he'd said something. When the brunet opened his mouth to speak, the blond fled, slamming the spare room door shut behind him.

* * *

The fight, if you could call it that, lasted three days. Alex, for the first time since Mark's prom, slept in a different bed. Well, "slept" was being generous. He mainly tossed and turned and had nightmares. He still ended up going to the masquerade ball he and Mark had been invited to, mainly because he needed a break and time to relax.

Alex changed his mind about the green dress, if only because he couldn't do it up without Mark. He ended up wearing a white cocktail dress with a black sash and lacing up the back that he, very carefully and using a mirror, managed to do up, same with the corset he wore under it. He put on a nice pair of heels with ribbons in place of straps and did up his hair into a chignon, tucking the vintage black butterfly hair comb Mark had given him for his birthday into it. After a moment of thought, he picked up his nana's old ring she gave him and slid it on his finger, for spiritual support or whatever. He then grabbed his matching mask and keys and left.

When he got there, he got himself a drink and sat in one of the chairs lined up against the wall, trying to squash the part of him that wished Mark was there so they could dance together.

Ten minutes after he sat down, he was approached by someone Mark's size, who managed to match his outfit perfectly, right down to the mask color and trim, who asked him to dance. He _almost_ thought it was Mark, but the guy's hair was black, not blond, and Mark wore glasses whereas this guy didn't. Their voices were similar, and his eyes were the same blue, but Alex figured he was grasping at straws and nodded, taking his hand and his offer to dance.

"What's your name?" the man asked.

Alex thought for a minute before answering, in the most feminine voice he could muster, so as to not freak the guy out, "Alex."

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I'm... I'm Ander," the man replied as they walked out onto the floor to dance. "So, Alex, who's the lucky guy you're here with?"

"No one. I was supposed to come with my roommate, but he and I..." Alex shook his head. "Never mind, it's not important."

"Somehow, I doubt that. Did you two fight or something?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

"Are you two dating?" Ander asked. Alex shook his head.

"No. We, well, we fucked, and we're good friends, but we're not actually dating."

"Well, that's a shame. He sounds kind of like an idiot if he's not dating you," Ander said, smiling. Alex frowned.

"He's not an idiot. He's brilliant. I just wish that he wasn't so stupid sometimes," he said, shaking his head. "Anyway, less talking, more dancing, please." Ander acquiesced and said no more unless Alex spoke first.

They stopped for drinks a couple of times, although they both opted out of the alcohol available, despite both being over twenty-one.

An hour later and Alex sighed.

"Something wrong, Alex?" Ander asked, concerned.

"I had hoped my roommate might show up and we could fix things, but apparently not."

"This _is_ a masquerade ball. Maybe he's here and just masked?" Alex shook his head.

"Nobody with hair as blond as his has shown up. He didn't come," he said, disappointment obvious in his voice. He sighed. "Can we just have fun?" Ander nodded and pulled Alex back out onto the dance floor.

Another half-hour later, Ander had him up against the wall outside the hotel's ballroom, hand creeping its way up Alex's skirt.

"Before you do that, you should probably know—"

"So, Alex isn't short for Alexis or Alexandra. More like Alexander," Ander said, sounding... Not all that surprised.

"Or Alejandro," Alex said, smiling apologetically.

"Nice to meet you, Alejandro," Ander said and kissed him.

Alex knew, somewhere in his head, that sex against a wall was _not_ the best place for it, but Ander was here, and Alex didn't want to go all the way back to the apartment for what he knew was going to be a quick hook-up and nothing more. So, against his better judgment, he did it. It was basically the textbook definition of a hook-up, crossdressing aside. They couldn't even be bothered to take their masks off, which explained how Alejando didn't realize until after, when he found out Ander wasn't quite who he said he was.

" _Mark_?"

The blond shrugged and shook out his hair, pulling out a few bobby pins he'd missed when pulling off the wig and hair net.

"Yeah..."

" _You_ were Ander?" Alex stared. "Jesus, I feel so _stupid,_ " he said, shaking his head and hitting himself in the forehead.

"Don't feel that way, lieverd," Mark said, the term of endearment slipping out. The brunet didn't notice. "I did my best to disguise myself. Plus, I have to admit, hearing you say my actual name rather than 'Ander' was quite the ego boost."

Alex's head shot up and he gave Mark a horrified look. "I did _not_."

"You did. But like I said, ego boost," the blond said, shrugging. Alex rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, cause you really need one," he said. He bit his lip and paused for a moment before continuing. "Mark, can we talk about what happened?" The blond flinched.

"Do we have to?"

"Yes," Alex said and gave him a look. "You told me you're in love with me, Mark. And then didn't even give me a chance to _talk_. Dude, asshole move."

"Yeah, that was kind of a dick move, huh?" Mark said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and blushing.

"No shit. Now, explain."

"Um, okay," Mark said, shrugging. "Well, I. I am in love with you. Have been for way too long."

"How long?"

"It's not important," the blond said, trying and failing to avoid the subject.

"Markus Schmidt. How long?" Alex asked, arms crossed, mask dangling from his hand by its straps, glaring at him.

"...Since prom. Before, actually," he admitted, blushing. "I was terrified to tell you how I felt, though, so I didn't really. Although, I was kind of hoping you'd get it with the song."

"Oh," Alex said, blushing as well. "I'd been hoping you meant it when you were singing it, so..."

"You did?" Mark asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I've been in love with you, too, dumb-ass. For just as long," the brunet said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh. Um, well then," the blond said, blushing again. "I love you, Alejandro Garcia."

"And I love you, Markus Schmidt. You dumb-ass," Alex said, smiling. Mark chuckled.

"So, Mister Garcia, can I have this dance?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"There's no music. The ball's over."

"And? Dance with me anyway?" Alex sighed and nodded, taking Mark's hand and letting the blond pull him closer. They started dancing, Mark humming quietly for a while and eventually singing. " _Are you the sweet invention of a lover's dream? Or are you really as wonderful as you seem?_ " Alex chuckled when he recognized the song.

"Sap," he said teasingly. Mark shrugged, still smiling.

"You love me anyway."

* * *

"A carnival, Mark? Really?" Alex asked, rolling his eyes fondly. "This is what you dragged me out of our very warm, very comfy, and very appealing bed and made me put on clothes for?" Mark nodded and pulled him over to the ticket booth. He purchased ride wristbands for them both and held his own out to his boyfriend.

"Help me put mine on?" he asked, and Alex acquiesced, wrapping the paper band around his wrist and pulled off the wax paper before sticking it closed. "Want some help with yours?"

"Yes, please," the brunet said, holding his wrist out so the blond could put the paper wristband on it. "Thanks," he said and adjusted his skirt so it sat right. "I'm really glad the extent of the rides are the ferris wheel, the round-up, the tilt-a-whirl, and the Pokémon kids' carousel. I don't have to worry about this, then." He tugged on the skirt to indicate what he meant. Mark smiled and kissed him.

"You should probably still worry about it. They have a fun house and who knows what we might get up to in there," the blond said, smirking. Alex rolled his eyes and thumped his boyfriend on the arm. "Alright, I'll keep my hands to myself. For now, anyway." The brunet rolled his eyes at his boyfriend again.

"Remind me why I love you?" Alex said, rolling his eyes for a third time.

"I'm good in bed? At least, judging by all the noise you make," Mark said, grinning and dodging Alex's attempted punch.

They went and played a couple of games, which Mark failed at, before going on the round-up, and following it up with funnel cakes. Alex would admit to making a show of licking the powdered sugar off his fingers, which was probably why Mark pinned him against the back wall of the fun house less than ten minutes later, out of sight, and kissed him soundly, hands on his hips, holding him against the blond.

"I thought you were going to keep your hands to yourself," Alex commented when Mark's mouth moved from his to his neck.

"I lied," the blond said, undoing the first few buttons of Alex's button down shirt and attaching his mouth to the shorter man's collarbone, sucking hard. The brunet let out what he refused to call a whimper and buried his hands in Mark's hair, tugging whenever the blond sucked particularly hard or bit down, and when his mouth moved slightly further south to play with the piercing there, Mark had to pry Alex's fingers from his hair before his boyfriend scalped him.

"Come on, here? Now? Are you trying to ruin _another_ one of my skirts?" The blond smirked and shrugged.

"Maybe. That collection could do with one like this," he said, tugging at Alex's skirt before returning his attention to the skin around his boyfriend's piercings.

"I really like this skirt, though, and if you ruin it for me, I swear I'll kill you— _oh_." Whatever else Alex was going to say was forgotten when Mark's hand found its way up the brunet's skirt.

"If I don't actually ruin the skirt, mind letting me have my fun?" he asked, smirking again.

"If you keep your fucking hand where it is, I honestly don't give a fuck," Alex said, and glared at Mark when the blond pulled his hand away. "Fucker, put it back."

"Nope," he said, grinning.

"Why the fuck not?"

"You know, you swear a lot when you're turned on," Mark commented, tone the same as someone who was making a casual comment about the weather.

"I don't give a flying fuck. Now come on, asshole, and don't leave me fucking hanging," Alex said, and Mark shook his head. "Why the fuck not?"

"Because I'm doing this." The blond dropped to his knees and pulled the brunet's skirt up high enough to get his head under before tugging Alex's underwear down and taking him in his mouth. He smirked inwardly at the string of cuss words that came out of his boyfriend's mouth, humming in appreciation when the swearing turned to Spanish. He pulled away for a minute to say, "Might want to be a little quieter, Alex. We are in public, you know."

The brunet let out something akin to 'I am going to kill you, you bastard' in Spanish and Mark smirked before returning his attention to what was in front of him.

It didn't take too long before Alex's swearing, despite his attempts to keep quiet, got particularly loud and he came, grabbing onto Mark's shoulders and gripping hard enough that the blond was fairly certain Alex would leave marks.

"I know you like doing that in public and all, but for the love of god, Mark, we're at a _carnival_ ," Alex said once he was coherent, scowling at the blond. Mark just grinned and got up, dusting his knees off.

"I know we are. And you just got a blowjob. Against the back of a funhouse. At the aforementioned carnival. By the way, you really need to work on your volume control."

Alex paled. "I wasn't that loud, was I?"

"Nah, not really. Although I did hear some people ask what that strange noise was..." The blond let the sentence trail off, his grin widening when the brunet blushed furiously.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," Mark murmured, kissing Alex's cheek.

"Ugh. Yes, I do. Home, now."

* * *

When Alex first met Gabe, it was when he moved in. Alex would've been worried about it, but Mark liked and trusted him. And Mark usually could be trusted in terms of people he chose as friends.

Gabe was a little shorter than Mark and slightly taller than Alex, and a little on the scrawny side, though definitely not as much as Mark was, wore glasses, and was a history major, who wanted to be a high school history teacher.

Mark asked Alex if he could move in for a while, as a favor, their third year of college.

"Um, Alex, can I ask a favor?" Mark asked. Alex looked up from his textbook and raised an eyebrow.

"It depends. Does this 'favor' resemble the last favor you asked of me? You know, the one where one of my favorite corsets ended up ruined and you spent _three hours_ in handcuffs because the key got lost before we remembered they were trick cuffs?" he asked, and Mark blushed.

"For the record, that wasn't the last favor I asked of you. And you enjoyed it, if you'll remember right."

"...point taken," Alex admitted. "What's the favor?"

"My friend, Gabe, the one who was in my history class last year? His girlfriend broke up with him and he needs a place to crash. Can he take the spare room?"

"Sure," the brunet said, shrugging. "We'll need to change the sheets, though. And possibly steam-clean the mattress. And before you try to get out of it, you're handling it. It's your fault anyway."

"How was I supposed to know chocolate syrup stained?"

"Just go clean the mattress. When's he moving in?" Alex asked, flipping the page in his textbook.

"This weekend. That okay?" Alex nodded and gestured Mark away, continuing to read.

Gabe wasn't bad. He was nice, quite a bit like Mark in personality, although he was less of a neat freak than Mark was. And Gabe was nice enough to distract Mark when Alex wanted some peace and quiet.

(Unfortunately, he wasn't much help when they'd go grocery shopping at Wal-Mart.)

"I'm _bored_ , Alex," Mark whined. "Gabe, entertain me?" The blond turned pleading eyes on his roommate, who shook his head and looked at the list in Alex's hand again.

"Okay, Alex, I'll take the list and go get the food and stuff on that end of the store," Gabe said, pulling the list from Alex's hand. "You go have sex with your boyfriend." He made shooing motions with his hands and took the cart before walking off and muttering about "stupid, blond idiots".

"Hm, where to, Alex?" Mark asked, smirking at his boyfriend, who was making pleading eyes at Gabe's back, hoping he'd come back.

"Dressing rooms?" Alex asked, hoping for at least a locking door.

"Nah, too private. Unless they have a broken lock on one..." Mark grinned and Alex rolled his eyes.

"One day, your fixation with public sex will get us caught. By someone other than Gabe," he said, rolling his eyes again. "And he's still scarred by walking in on us."

"Yeah, he kinda was, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was," Alex said, rolling his eyes yet again. "So can we just minimize the possibility of people walking in on us. Besides, you know how quiet I'm _not_ , even when we're in public."

Mark smirked. "Oh, I know. The carnival is still burned into my brain. Now, come on, I want to ruin your miniskirt," he said, tugging Alex toward the dressing rooms. "I'll even be nice and get one with a locking door."

* * *

"Will you marry me?"

Mark asked him a few years years later on a Thursday afternoon. It was June, and raining outside. Gabe had moved out a few months before. Alex was wearing a pair of striped purple pajama pants (that may or may not have been from the women's section) and one of Mark's old high school T-shirts. (He only remembered because once he stuttered out a "yes", the resulting celebratory sex resulted in him being unable to wear those again because they'd been torn several times in an eventually successful attempt to get them off.)

"So, what's the dress going to look like?" Mark asked the morning after, setting a mug of coffee and a plate with a few pieces of toast on it in front of Alex.

"What makes you so certain I'm going to be wearing a dress? I could decide on a suit instead," the brunet said and took a sip of his coffee. Mark rolled his eyes fondly and smiled.

"Because this is you and you don't wear pants unless they're pajamas or you have to," he pointed out.

"You have a point," Alex conceded, taking a bite of his toast. "No idea what it's going to look like, though. I guess we can kiss the traditional 'don't see each other in our outfits before the wedding' thing good-bye?"

"Do you really want someone else helping you get dressed that morning?" Mark asked, sitting down next to his fiancé. Alex shook his head.

"Of course not. That's your job and has been since I started dragging you shopping with me when I was fifteen," he said, smiling at the blond.

Mark smiled back. "You have a point, darling."

"Darling?" Alex raised an eyebrow. "When did I turn into a girl?" Mark blushed and looked down.

"I didn't mean you were a girl, I'm just fond of pet names," he said, shrugging.

"And you couldn't have mentioned that, oh, _once_ in the past four years we've officially been dating?" Alex asked, eyebrows raised.

Mark mumbled something and shrugged.

"What was that?"

"I said, 'that's what the Dutch was'. From the time we first... you know, to, well, now," Mark said, shrugging.

"Wait, those were Dutch pet names? And you never thought to tell me you liked calling me by them?" Alex gave him a look that would've sent Gabe running for cover. Mark just gave him an 'earnest puppy' look in return and the brunet felt any and all annoyance disappear. "So... Start translating some of them? Please?"

"Okay," Mark agreed. "Um, 'lieverd' is 'darling'. 'Geliefd' is, um," the blond blushed and mumbled the rest. "'Beloved'." Alex stared at him for a moment before smiling softly and kissing him.

"Mi amado," he murmured, kissing Mark again. "Spanish for 'my beloved'."

Mark smiles and kissed Alex, pulling him close.

"I love you, Alex," Mark whispered, kissing Alex again, who moved and climbed onto Mark's lap.

"Love you too. Can we have sex?" he asked, kissing Mark again as soon as he was done talking.

"And I thought I was the sex addict," Mark murmured, smiling at Alex. "And yes, we can. Come on."

* * *

Planning was a pretty much a blur, and Mark took care of most of it, because Alex nearly killed him the one time he decided to make a joke about how, since Alex was the one in the dress, he should plan it. That left Alex with getting his dress, which took longer than he'd care to admit, but he eventually found one.

And then it was their wedding day.

"Here comes the bride!" Gabe sang, intentionally off-key. Alex punched him in the arm. "Ow! That hurt!"

"I'm not a fucking _bride_ ," he said, scowling.

"But you're dressed like one!" He pointed out. Alex glared at him.

"Call me a bride again and I swear to you, you won't be able to have children."

Gabe's eyes widened and he gulped. "Okay, okay! I'll stop! Just don't actually castrate me, please."

"You're lucky, Gabriel," Alex muttered, glancing at the mirror and tugging his corset into place. "Okay, go get Mark."

"You know it's bad luck to see each other before the wedding, right?"

"Shut up and get my fiancé before I punch you," Alex said, glaring at Gabe, who hurried out of the room to get Mark. After a few minutes, Mark came in, sans Gabe, and closed the door behind him, coming over to help Alex.

"I'd kiss you, but I seem to recall threats of death by veil if I ruined your makeup even slightly," Mark said, smiling at Alex and helping him do up the laces on his corset and dress. "Ready to get married, lieverd?"

"Yup," Alex said, nodding and grinning at Mark in the mirror. "And I would kill you. I am determined to not screw up my makeup, damn it. My laces tied?"

"Yeah. You're all ready," the blond murmured, smiling at Alex and hugging him again. "Come on, wedding time."

"Yeah, let's go," Alex said, nodding and practically dragging Mark out of the room. "Alright, ready?"

"Ready. Let's do this," Mark whispered, kissing Alex's cheek once before gesturing for them to open the doors and starting to walk down the aisle together, Alex pointedly ignoring his relatives' weirded-out looks.

They got to the front and Alex would remember later that he didn't remember a thing of his vows, he was too busy smiling at Mark. He did remember afterwards, though, when they put their rings on and kissed, and dancing at the reception, to Alex's favorite song from Cinderella, like they did at prom.

"Love you, even if you are a sappy dork," Alex murmured, smiling at Mark and tugging him away from the dance floor as the song ended.

"Love you too, even if you are as sappy as I am," Mark whispered back, kissing Alex gently and smiling when he pulled away.

_End_.


End file.
